


For the fallen; for the future.

by Anonymous



Series: The line between Light and Dark. [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Never forget the sacrifices of those who came before you. Never forget the lives laid down in the pursuit of a better tomorrow.Fight, Guardian. For the fallen; for those still standing...For the future.





	1. Rise, Guardian.

The first thing he saw was stars.

Beyond the wreckage of ships and debris, he saw stars, shining bright even in face of the destruction that surrounded him. It was awe-inspiring - so much so that he didn't even notice the machine floating around him, scanning as it spoke. It's only when it enters his vision that he notices it, and even then, it takes a conscious effort to tune back into the world around him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

If the machine could roll its eye, it would. In fact, it did, even going as far as to roll its body around to mimic the action. "Y'know, they told me that it'd take a minute or two to get your bearings, but I didn't think you'd be this slow!"

The man frowns, "Hey..."

"Sorry," the machine cut him off, continuing. "I'm sure this is weird for you, coming back to life and all, but we can't stay here forever! It's a miracle this ship is still holding up as is. How long has this thing been orbiting the moon? A couple hundred years?"

More than half a dozen questions came to mind, but he didn't have a chance to voice them before he felt the ship shake. For some reason, he knew it wasn't a piece of it breaking off. Something else had caused it.

"Oh no..." The machine mirrored his concern, looking to him once more. "Hold still."

He listens and in a flash of light, she disappears. He's just about to say something when he hears her voice again, only this time, it's coming from inside of him.

"We need to get moving. Chances are that whatever else is on the ship isn't friendly, so you'll need a weapon. Luckily, I came prepared."

Another flash of light, and when it fades, it leaves behind an assault rifle in his hands. It was a rugged machine; old, discolored, and with a faded insignia on its side: Suros.

"It's... definitely seen some better days. It's been a few hundred years since I last brought it out."

More questions came to mind, but above them stood something else - something he couldn't describe. It was almost instinct for him to run through checking the weapon, slipping in a full mag before aiming down the sights. The lens was cracked, but it was usable.

"It'll do, thanks. It'll be pretty bad if I had to float around and shoot though. Anything we can do about the gravity?"

"Yeah, give me a moment."

She left him - he didn't know how he could tell before she reappears above the controls, but he did, watching as she works. In but a few minutes, the lights flicker on. Soon after that, he's coming back down to the ground, landing on his feet. He stumbles, but catches himself on the chair, feeling the machine join him once more.

"Good thing you were in the cockpit. Bad news is that I had to turn everything back on for the whole ship, so whoever's here know they aren't alone. Be careful."

"I'll try to be."

It's the last thing he says before leveling his weapon and stepping to the door, casting but a few wayside glances toward the room around him. With the lights on, he's able to take notice of just how big it is, and the poor state its in. He was fortunate enough to be on the upper level, but around and below him, dust and other things laid strewn about. It's soon out of sight and mind as the door opens though, stepping through it and into the hallway that laid beyond.

Almost immediately after stepping out of the room, he levels his rifle, moving forward in complete silence. He couldn't see whoever else was there, but he could hear them, their steps and voices echoing through the halls. The language was foreign, but even he could recognize the aggression in their tone. Somehow, he could feel the machine inside him growing tense. She recognized it too, probably even better than him.

"Fallen," she whispered. "They're scavengers of the worst kind. They're bad enough on Earth, but out here in space... Just don't expect to get out of here without a fight."

He tightens his grip on his gun, stopping before an entrance. The door was already open with light pouring in, but more important than that were the shadows being cast. The voices - the Fallen were just a few feet away, and by the sounds of it, there was a lot of them. He post up just before the entrance, shoulders tense, and his determination apparent.

"We'll have to fight through them to get to the launching bay. There might be a ship for us to use there."

He nods, preparing himself. His response is simple.

"We'll get there. Just stay inside me."

It's on that statement that he pushes off the wall and rushes into the room, gun leveled, and his adrenaline pumping.

Showtime.


	2. Fight, Guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if I ever switch up how I write a bit. I'm an aspiring author and as a result, I'm always trying out new formats, and trying to feel out what works best for me. That said, chapter two is here! I hope y'all enjoy it.

Even with just fifteen or so minutes of life under his belt, his prowess in combat shone like a beacon. He was a killing machine, methodical in his approach, and precise in his execution.

The closest enemy - a Fallen, with what appeared to be two stumps at its side, fell when he entered, taken down with a swift strike to its throat with the butt of his gun. "Dreg down," the machine called out as he did. "Three more to your right!" In response to her call out, he aimed their way, letting loose a third of the mag. All but one fell quickly, and for it, he rushed forward with his gun once more, using it as a battering ram to cave its skull in.

It felt awkward - brutish to take down his enemies with such means, but in the face of what would be certain death if he failed, he'd make due with what he had. The thought came just as he let his momentum continue to carry him forward, rolling behind a piece of cover just as those still standing let loose some shots in return. Shrapnel rained down against the metal, but he held his position, occasionally glancing up at them when they stopped to reload.

He counted a dozen, and from the looks of it, it wasn't just dregs among them. There were others, standing taller, looking crueler, and with four arms instead of two.

"Vandals," the friendly voice of the machine came to him once more. He didn't feel anxious despite his situation, but he couldn't help but feel better hearing her despite that. "There might be a Captain here too, but we can still get out of here. You're a natural at this."

"Thanks." He fired off three blind shots; a shout and a crash let him know they landed true. "But I don't plan on fighting all of them. Something tells me that there's a lot more than just this group around. We'll eventually get overwhelmed if we keep fighting."

He felt her stiffen at that; fear was present in his companion, but underlining that, pride. "We, huh...?" There's but a few seconds of silence before she continued, the hint of a smile in her tone as she did. "Then I'll plot out a path for us to take. You don't have a helmet to see it, but I'll direct us. Just shoot and keep moving."

"Right. Just tell me when."

One second... Two... Three...-

"Now!"

On her command, just as the Fallen started to reload, he burst from behind cover and rushed them. His gun lit up as he did, taking some down as he did, and sending the others scattering. He doesn't stop to fight them though, instead, continuing toward the door that had cleared up, and into the hallway that laid beyond. He moved at a fast pace, almost a blur as he tore through the ship, shooting as he ran into other groups of Fallen.

"This left up here! The Hanger is just ahead of it!"

He turned the corner fast, maintaining both his balance and momentum in an expert show control, bursting into the bay with a squad of Fallen trailing half a dozen yards behind him. The machine is quick to act in response, leaving him and floating above a panel beside the entrance, scanning it. Not even a second later and the door closed, doing so just as a Vandal reached out for him, taking its arm clean off its body.

He looked to the appendage with a slight grimace as it fell to the ground, "Gross."

"Definitely, but we've got other things to focus on." The machine floated away from him and deeper into bay; even with the power on, few lights were on, casting an ominous light down on what remained of the ships. All but a few had been salvaged, and the few that hadn't looked well beyond their flying years, rusted and damn near falling apart. "This is...-"

She trailed off, looking back to him. "I can try to fix this, but even if you manage to find all the parts I need, it'll take a few hours to get everything working." As if to illustrate why that was a problem, a loud knock rang through the hangar, shaking the entrance free of some dust that had built on it. The sound of the Fallen responsible was as clear as ever, working to get it open.

"We don't have a few hours," he said, frowning. "We've got thirty minutes, maybe, and that's assuming it takes them a bit to bring something to cut down the door."

He half expected sparks to show just as he said that - thankfully, none did, causing him to sigh in relief.

It's cut short when the machine cried out behind him; he turned, gun leveled, to see her held in the grip of a Fallen.

It was bigger than the others, most notably with twin swords in the grasp of two of its four hands, crude armor, and a cape. It's not how it looked that held his attention though. No, it was the sight of the machine in its grasp, struggling to free herself with her single eye focused on him. He could read the panic in it, see her fear...

And it filled him with a rage he didn't know was possible.

"Foolish Risen," The Captain said, his accent harsher in a language he could understand. "You come back just to die again. I will enjoy tearing you and your Ghost apa-"

His movement was almost instantaneous; from a neutral position to a charge, bursting forward and closing the distance between them in almost a blink of an eye. Two shots come with his charge, but when they're stopped by a flash a blue encasing his enemy, his gun was all but abandoned in favor of his body. The Fallen had at least a hundred pounds on him, but his momentum is enough to take it off its feet, and release its grasp on the machine. 

He didn't stop there there, letting his momentum carry him to the ground with it, straddling it as he kept on the offensive. He poured his fist onto him as hard and fast as he could, meeting the blue shield with each punch that he threw. It held in face of his assault, wavering, but refusing to give out. It's enough to let the Captain regain his senses and respond, throwing him off with a roar. He's sent soaring through the air before coming back down hard, landing on his arm.

It snapped - his vision goes red for but a second, but just as fast as he was injured, he wasn't. He rose to his feet with a clear show of confusion briefly present. Even on his shirt, where bone had tore through the fabric, there was blood, but no injury. He didn't have time to question it further though, because not even five seconds after he made it to his feet, the Captain was on him once more.

It came in hard with its sword, swinging them with the intent to take off his head. He backpedaled just before they hit, leaving but an inch between the two, more than close enough to feel the power radiating off of them, arcs of lighting threatening to jump out and touch him. He responded with a hard right, bringing it up into its side with the full intent on breaking through its armor. But just like before, the shield stopped him short, forcing him back.

It's not enough though. Just as fast as it swung before, it did again, twirling its blade so that when it met him, it's point was driven into his shoulder. The response was immediate; he cried out, arc energy racing through his body, threatening to send him to a knee. It's only through latching onto the Fallen that he's able to keep standing, and even then, he's barely able to do so.

Through the pain, he heard the Captain laughing. But more important than that, he saw the machine, his Ghost, watching from afar. Time seemed to slow to a standstill in that moment - though without words being exchanged between the two, he knew just what she was thinking, and she, him. He felt her initial reluctance, but in face of what awaited them both if she didn't, he felt her acceptance.

His grip on the Captain tightened.

It noticed a little too late that his Ghost had floated to the panel once more, issuing a command to open a door - not to the entrance, but the launchpad behind them. Everything around them was swept into the vacuum; the ships, the ruins, and everything else that wasn't latched down. The little warmth that the ship offered was immediately replaced by an unfathomable cold, so deep and so powerful that the strength that he had vanished, releasing the Captain from his grip as the two floated away from the ship through space.

Each second that passed made it harder for him to think, harder from him to move. Pain gave way to numbness, and eventually, that gave way to nothing. The last thing he saw wasn't the stars, but something - no, someone that shone even brighter than them, desperate to catch up to him even in the midst of the void.

If his face wasn't frozen, he'd have smiled. But he prayed that she understood his last message, sent out to her with the remnants of his consciousness.

"Sorry."

After that, Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! As always, reviews and comments are always more than welcomed. I'm not making promises, but keep your eyes open for a third chapter before the week is up.
> 
> Also happy N7 Day!


	3. Welcome to Earth.

"-isen? Risen!"

He bolted upright; confusion stood at the forefront, but following close behind it was relief. Just like the last time she had brought him back, before him was his companion, the machine - no, not the machine. She had been called a Ghost before.

"You're alright..." He didn't mean for it, but his relief was apparent in his tone. "So am I. I thought I...-"

"Died? You did. I brought you back again." She paused, just long enough for the information to register before she continued. "When a Ghost finds their Risen, they become... connected. I can keep bringing you back. Heal you too."

He thought back to his broken arm, "I see... That's good to know."

He seemed about to say more, but it's only then that he became aware of his surroundings. He was in a hut; it was small, with the room he was in being the only one it had, complete with the bed he laid in, a couple of chairs set against the wall to his right, and a desk to his left. On the desk was a single lit candle, the lone source of light in the room.

"Where are we?"

His Ghost drew closer, scanning him. He didn't notice it until then, but the clothes he had before were gone, leaving him with just the cover he was under to cover himself. It's only then that he noticed the clothes laid out on one of the chairs. As he stood to retrieve them, she responded.

"The Fallen had been towing the ship we were in. I think they were planning to take it back to Earth, so when you were pulled out of it, you came crashing down onto the planet. It's a miracle that you didn't land in the ocean - an even bigger one that you landed as close to a village as you did."

"So you dragged me here?"

She laughed, "With what hands? No, I only found you again after your body had been brought here. It was him that brought you here."

"Him?"

She shrugged - at least that's what he got from her floating up and down. "Never gave me a name. He's like you though, Risen and all. You should go talk to him."

That made him pause, even if just for a few moments. There were more like him? It made sense. When he and his Ghost first met, she had hinted toward their being more. There were a lot of questions he had, but in that moment, he decided to pocket all but one.

"What's your name?"

She stiffened at that, "... what's yours?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He frowned. He felt like something should've been there and yet, the longer he thought on it, the more he came up with nothing.

"I... I don't have one, I think."

She softened a little with his response, moving forward to float alongside him as he finished dressing, moving to exit the hut. "Neither do I. I guess we're both Nameless."

* * *

 

Even in the midst of night, the village was still alive. People milled about alongside one another, talking and laughing. Multiple fires were lit with small crowds of people gathered around them all. But of them all, one stood alone, with but a single person seated before it. He was hunched over, but radiated a subtle strength, clad in fur and leather. It was him that the Risen walked to, sitting across from him on a log.

It's only after he did that the man looked up, bearing a smile that was equal parts charismatic and dangerous.

"So you're finally awake. Took you long enough."

There was familiarity in how he spoke, but maybe that was just how he was. Regardless, he returned his smile with one of his own, albeit a lot more resigned than his.

"Falling from orbit can do a number on you. I think I earned a few days of rest after that."

The man laughed; hearty, genuine, and still doing nothing to betray the strength he seemed to radiate. "I was thinkin' somethin' like that happened. Crater that big could only mean one thing. I was shocked to find you in one piece! Burnt to all hell, but still one piece."

His smile widened at that, "I appreciate you not leaving me out there, even more for leaving me some clothes to wear. She might be able to bring me back from the brink, but the same can't be said about my gear." He playfully nudged his Ghost as he referred to her; she feigned annoyance, but even without a face like his, he could recognize her smile.

"Don't mention it, brother. Us Risen, we gotta stick together, especially in times like these. It's a harsh world out there... no sense in us buttin' heads and makin' it harsher."

A shadow fell across his face when he said that. For a few fleeting moments, his smile faded, replaced by something else. Something Darker. But just as fast as it had appeared, it disappeared, his charismatic smile returning once more.

"The people 'round here call me Drifter, kid, and for good reason. I stuck around longer than I meant to so I could talk to you and now that I have, I gotta head out." He rose to his feet as he spoke, slinging a bag over his shoulder as he did. "Though I gotta say... It was real interestin' meetin' someone like you. I heard rumors, but you're the first for me. Guess that old ball in the sky saw somethin' in your people too."

He opened his mouth to question him, but before he could, a gun fell into his hands. It was different from the auto rifle he had before - it was sleeker, with a combination of wood and metal making up its design, fitted with a scope that easily surpassed the one he had before.

"A gift. You lost all your gear in orbit, right? I'll leave you with that. Call it Bygones. It does a lot of damage in the right hands, so take some time to learn it. Promise you won't regret it."

Just like he had when he last got a gun, he ran through checking it, ending with him aiming down its sights. It's only when he does that he noticed the Drifter had long since started to make his leave, heading not for the light of the village, but to the darkness that laid beyond the fire. He lifted his hand as he did, calling out one last time before he vanished completely.

"I'll be seein' you. Tell me what you learn about this world when I do."

He sat there for a little while longer after the Drifter disappeared from sight, looking from where he last was to the pulse rifle in his hands. There was a lot of questions he had - about himself, about the other Risen, and about the world around him. But before he could get to all of that, he had to settle something.

"I don't like not having a name to call you by. I don't know about you, but 'Ghost' seems a little too distant to me. We're partners, so there needs to be some familiarity. Something more intimate."

She floated in front of him, obscuring his view of the fire, pulling his attention to the single eye she had.

"I was thinking the same thing about you. 'Risen' is a title, not a name."

He smiled; it was small, held back by the same worry as before, but it was there. A name...

"I'll think on mine and you think on yours. We'll figure them out before the night is up. Alright?"

She nodded, "Alright."

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've written anything, but I hope you're willing to give this story a chance. I plan for this to be the first of a trilogy following both canon plot lines and original content, spanning from pre-D1 to post D2 Forsaken, and beyond.
> 
> I don't have a set upload schedule, but expect at least one chapter a week. Hopefully I can push that up to three or four.
> 
> All that said, leave a comment and review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, critiques and all.


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